


Constrained

by bardlygo



Series: Reign of Blood [1]
Category: Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, BDSM, Blood and Torture, Claustrophobia, Dissociation, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gags, Hair-pulling, Human/Vampire Relationship, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Mild Sexual Content, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Repressed Memories, Self-Doubt, Shibari, Spanking, Toreador (Vampire: The Masquerade), Trauma, Trauma Recovery, Unhealthy Relationships, Vampire Bites, Vampires, trauma response
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25140256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bardlygo/pseuds/bardlygo
Summary: The five times Lilian Fisher didn't like being constrained, and the one time she did.(A 5+1 fic)Chapter-specific content warnings are in notes.
Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Reign of Blood [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821103
Comments: 9
Kudos: 8





	1. ripped at every edge

**Author's Note:**

> One of the first fics inspired by my bi-weekly campaign of Vampire: the Masquerade.
> 
> Thanks to Rory for being an _amazing_ GM and encouraging me to write this, as well as Neil, Isaac, Hendri, and Lucas for being such amazing tabletop partners. Love you all. <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world of darkness does not relinquish its hold on those that drown in blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter CW: Minor blood, unhealthy relationships, psychological torture, trauma/traumatizing situations.
> 
> Lilian's turning was not consensual, and she was broken down through awful means to accept her sire. Her story, while not containing sexual assault or rape, treads very close to those themes. Be gentle with yourself if that bothers you.

Tears, cold and bitter, roll down her temples and stain the brilliant red (and certainly artificial) dyed hair. It wouldn't make much a difference to the color, as it's only crimson blood that leaks from her eyes... but nobody is here to witness her pain in the pitch dark of this tiny box.

More red. Always more red. A haze descends upon her. It makes her feral and angry and vicious. Makes her claw at the metal until her fingernails tear from her skin. The wounds do not run with hot and fresh blood. Instead, they seep like festering wounds that ooze infection. She sobs and wails and kicks and fights, her vocal cords torn and raw from her sobbing and pleading. Her screams... the screams never stop, not in her head.

And still, nobody is here to witness her pain.

When the red haze vanishes, and her body slumps, when she goes limp, she feels no warmth. Her breath is not hot anymore. The air in this box is not stifling, and that is the only thing that never seems to run out.

In between the red haze and the limp, she does what she thinks is sleep. She doesn't know, her body feels so different. She tries to count the seconds but loses track and bursts into another round of tears within moments when she realizes she doesn't know how long she's been in here.

She strains her ears for clues. Holds every noise in she can, and still, it is nigh on impossible to deduce where she is.

When the door opens and light floods in, it blinds her. More tears, more red, she slumps against something, some _one_ who is just as cold and hard as the metal she'd been housed in for... she still doesn't know how long.

It is the last time in a very long while she mistakes something for the sun again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _Colors_ by Halsey.


	2. and he’s blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilian meets Reggie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter CW: Panic/anxiety attacks due to PTSD, dubious consent vampire feeding/implied sex.

It strikes suddenly, and without warning.

One of the benefits of undeath is a lack of many bodily functions, so panic attacks are less about a shortness of breath and a pounding heart and more the impending feeling of utter and inescapable doom. It's times like these she feels closest to the Beast.

"Hey, you okay?"

It's the artsy boy she's seduced, the one she's now making out with in his cramped car in front of a shitty dive bar. The air outside is cold and only his breath is fogging up the windows. (Conveniently for them, it also creates a small film with which they can hide their more... illicit activities.)

"Fuck. Yes, sorry, I..."

"No, no, hey, it's all good," he says. His hands are on her hips, she's looking down at him. They're sitting awkwardly together in the front seat, her in his lap, and his eyes are... _impossibly_ blue.

Blue isn't the opposite of red, in terms of color theory.

It's always been the opposite in Lilian's mind.

Red is roses and passion and fire and _blood._ Red is always blood now.

Blue is the sky. Calm. Water. Blue is the gaze of a stupid, somewhat-horny and desperate college student who doesn't know what's about to happen, who doesn't understand there's a monster masquerading as a mortal in his lap.

Lilian doesn't know why thinking of his naïveté makes her chest so tight, or why it makes her throat close instinctively.

"We don't have to-"

"Shut up and kiss me," she begs, nips at his bottom lip until he's _red,_ finally _red,_ and pressing against her desperately for relief. His neck arches in just the most beautiful way.

_Now._

They both muffle their moans of bliss as her fangs sink into his skin and she drinks deeply.

Red.

_Red._

_**Red.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _Colors_ by Halsey.


	3. pulled apart at the seams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the coterie stuck in mining tunnels as a result of an explosion on the winter solstice, Lilian begins to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter CW: More claustrophobia, angst, some flashbacks and self-blame for trauma.
> 
> Lots of memories got repressed ( _that's what we call a trauma response, kids_ ) when Lilian got taken out of that coffin. This is the shortly after the beginning of her journey to recover those memories and grappling with the guilt and shame that follows.

Lilian swears the caves are breathing.

She's _red_ again. This time it's the stupid dress she's wearing. All for the winter solstice, dressed up like a shiny new toy.

Fought over by two spoiled boys, pulled in different directions until one of them triumphed.

Even if it meant breaking what they fought over in the first place.

She won't see the morning sky again. Not ever in person. Still, she longs for it, misses clear and beautiful blue that can only be enjoyed through artificial means.

It's her and Jack and Beth and Dio and Nadhir in these caves, after the explosion at the party. None of them breathe but everyone seems to hold their breath as the Senechal grows weaker and their hungers all grow stronger.

Lilian sees more red when she wrests the door of a metal locker open to reveal the mining gear they can use to ascend this pit to higher-up tunnels. The haunting screech of tight hinges sends a shiver up her spine and makes her teeth gnash with anger.

_When has she heard that before?_

She hates the cold, hates the dark, hates the night. It's not fair. She'd spent the day prior to her turning bitching about the weather. About how it was too hot.

What she'd give to feel the sun's warmth again.

When they can't walk anymore, she curls up on her side for a group rest. Dark dirt smears the fine red cloth and Lilian's fingers run over the fabric. In a strange and twisted way, it almost looks like blood.

Her mind blurs.

She forgets.

She doesn't know how long she's been down here.

_When has she thought that before?_

The realization is enough to make her start crying as the memories begin to bubble up. Where time was just untraceable as her screams. The sound accompanying what she mistook for freedom, for light, for comfort. More bloody tears stain her face the way the dirt stains her dress and Lilian realizes, _painfully_ realizes how deeply and wrongfully she was taken advantage of. A sick and confused part of her mind wails as it cries in tandem with her. Part of her still loves her sire - Perseus, the name of a supposed _hero_ , the name of a beautiful but evil man who was nothing but dark eyes and smiles and hair.

The thought terrifies her.

_"Forget, please, forget. It's easier. Just stay in the dark."_

It is _always_ red in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _Colors_ by Halsey.


	4. when the light came through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The coterie is free of the caves, and Lilian has a chance to cast off the chains that drag her down into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter CW: Claustrophobia, toxic/abusive relationships, grooming in relationships, mention of rape in a mythological story.

Lilian knows something is wrong from the moment she steps into the lobby of the apartment complex that sits above her sire’s safe house. If her heart could beat, it would be pounding in her ears in time with the mental discord that echoes in her swirling mind.

Slowly, they descend into the dark.

Memories bubble up like bile in her throat and threaten to choke her. Memories of the caves, memories of the coffin. Lilian’s hands curl into fists and her nails dig into the meat of her palms.

Her knuckles are white with the effort.

If Perseus is red, then Lucian is white.

There’s something ironic, she thinks, about the names of those who would possess her as nothing but ornamentation to themselves.

Perseus. In the mythos, he was regarded as a hero - having slain the gorgon Medusa. Medusa, who had been cursed to look terrifying and monstrous as a punishment for… what? What  _ was _ her crime? Being raped on a temple floor because a god could not help himself from his urges? Defiling the holy space of the goddess she had devoted herself to? Her monstrosity was not the curse men imagined it to be - it was a gift. A way to protect her from any who could _ dare _ harm her again.

Lucian. Light. White. Pure.  _ Perfect.  _ She remembers the way he looked at her on the winter solstice when she was meant to become a fully-fledged member of vampiric society. She remembers the lessons, remembers the way he’d pinch the bridge of his nose when she erred in judgment. He’s the purity that’s easier to trust, the clean and proper and perfect that she is not. She never was, she thinks, cut out for the societal role that she was meant to play. Maybe there’s a small mercy in her stains, in her imperfections. She’d leave feeling exhausted and frustrated, but she was always certain he’d never hurt her. 

As the Neo-Camarilla rises to power with Lucian at its helm, she isn’t certain of much anymore… save for the fact that she trusts neither of the men who claimed to want only the best for her.

Right now, her loyalty lies with her coterie and with the human she's desperately trying to shield from this world of darkness.

The doors to the elevator open.

So do Lilian’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _Colors_ by Halsey.


	5. i was a lilac sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A darkness that lingers in the edges of Lilian's mind swells as she is drawn back into a life she tried to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter CW: Brief mention of kink play, flashbacks/nightmares, brief mention of some tasteful sex, blood, gore, death, claustrophobia, disassociation due to trauma. 
> 
> This chapter... very quickly ran away from me in length. I had a lot of fun writing it, I hope you have as much in reading it.  
> (The tooth-rotting fluff is coming in a chapter about as long as this one, I promise!!)

Lilian is sobbing.

She’s sobbing and she can't _stop_.

She doesn't need to breathe, and that makes it _so much worse_.

She remembers stirring as Reggie leaves their bed, remembers him kissing her forehead, and… 

_'He’s gone,’_ the voice in her head whispers, _‘He’s gone, he’s not coming back, and you’re stuck in this room until night.’_

The voice sounds like Perseus and she fucking _hates_ it.

She _had_ to move away from Midas Springs. Not only to protect herself but to protect her coterie. Her presence became a serious danger for them with her sire now red-listed by the Camarilla. If it meant keeping the people she cared about safe, she’d do almost anything.

She remembers Reggie’s thumb running over the back of her scraped and shaking hand in the upper floors of Meg’s club as she tells him she can’t stay, that she’s leaving the city. His impossible blue eyes softening as he thinks about what she’s just said.

He asks her if they needed to pack up his stuff first, or hers.

He has always been so willing, so ready to drop everything for her. She’s given him an out every time, and he never takes it. In fact, he actively resists when she tries to nudge him towards safety, trying to protect him the way she wishes someone had for her.

It almost _scares_ her.

Lilian remembers welcoming a new coterie into her apartment - a ragtag group not _nearly_ as well-coordinated as her old. She remembers laughing at Reggie’s panic when his _criminology professor_ of all people shows up. She’s still riding the high of great play and drinking her fill of blood, too complacent to pay attention to the gaps in one member’s story. All that matters is finding Beth’s father before Ophelia (the monstrous Malkavian who sired her) does.

She remembers the sheer terror that threatens to overtake her in the cramped tunnels when the heavy metal door bolts behind them, and Charlie Lambert’s face, melting away to reveal a demure and dark-haired woman with crimson red lips that curl into a patronizing and wicked smirk.

_Red._

Ophelia. Ophelia had gotten so _close_ to Reggie. Ophelia had been _invited_ into Lilian’s domain.

Despite her best efforts, danger has followed them here to Los Angeles and takes residence in her dreams.

The nightmare that woke her continues to play on a loop even when she shuts her eyes.

_She’s staring at herself in Reggie’s lap, bodies bare as hands roam. Other Lilian leans down to lick a stripe up his neck. He moans and chokes out her name, and teeth become fangs that sink into his neck. It is only when they rip themselves out violently does she try to scream. Every muscle, every inch of her body stands relaxed, watching, helpless. She is not bound, she’s apathetic as his blood covers the face of Other Lilian. The sheets are red, the walls are red, the lips are red. The only thing she wants to be red is Reggie, wants to see his skin flush with the effort of pleasuring her. Amber eyes flash and red becomes black. Ophelia’s laughter is rich and almost maniacal as her face morphs underneath the rolling droplets of blood. Reggie’s expression is blank. His throat gapes open as he slumps backward onto the bed. Hints of white among red and red that is so thick it is black, oh_ God _she can see the bone, and his death rattle is ten times worse than Ophelia’s laughter, make it stop, please make it stop, no more red,_ ** _please_** _..._

Lilian wishes her face would change too. She wants to hide, run away, protect this human she’s fallen for even if it means destroying herself in the process. He deserves someone human, someone safe, someone who isn’t…

_'A monster,’_ Perseus’s voice hisses in her ear. Sick glee drips from it and she huddles into her corner where nobody can stand behind her. The voice does not stop. ' _He’s finally seen you for the monster you are, darling.’_ He has her trapped her, she can’t move or he’ll come back just like Ophelia did and he’ll _hurt her_ and _laugh_ while he does it.

She’s called Reggie at least ten times and texted him twice as much and has gotten no response. She can’t go looking for him, the sun is still up, and she feels trapped. The air in the room is cold and empty and _lifeless_ and she feels as though if she could eat food, she’d have relinquished the contents of her stomach long before now.

Her mind does something it hasn’t done since the coffin.

It shuts down.

When it begins to slowly return to function, Lilian dazedly realizes that someone is trying to talk to her.

Her eyes are unfocused and she instinctively flinches away from touch. Her skin is icy cold and he feels like he’s _burning_ as he gets closer. Reggie sounds like he’s talking through walls of foam or communicating through water - there’s intonation and pitch but no _words_ because everything is muffled beyond recognition.

All of him comes into focus after what feels like a century of confusion.

Lilian doesn’t know how much time has passed.

“You’re safe,” he promises her. Tucks a lock of hair behind her head, is wiping her eyes very carefully with one of many bloody tissues that sit in an alarmingly large pile on their bed.

“You died,” she chokes out. Her voice lacks its usual richness and demure lilt. She sounds small and her throat is raspy like she’s been screaming.

“I… huh?”

“You died. I killed you. Or Ophelia. I don’t know.”

The silence that follows is heavy.

“Hey. Lilian, hey, can you look at me? I’m right here. I’m alive. See?”

His fingers feel like flames licking her frigid skin as he guides her hand to his chest.

Reggie’s heart beats under her palm and Lilian feels like she can breathe again.

She thinks he apologizes for not responding to her efforts to contact him, but she’s too busy crying to even pay attention to what he’s saying. Eventually, he elects to simply pull her into his lap and lean against the wall. He’s warm and quiet and _blue_ as she falls apart in the gentle rock of his arms.

_'You’re wrong,’_ she whispers to the Perseus in her head. A quiet act of defiance, but an important one.

The blissful quiet is only broken by Reggie's gentle offer of help in piecing herself together again.

Lilian accepts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _Colors_ by Halsey.


	6. covered in the colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilian surrenders to a different darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is... a spicy chapter. Nothing explicitly sexual happens on screen, but boy-oh-boy, there's some kinky stuff in here. Probably not _the_ kinkiest, but forgive me, I am new to posting degeneracy (however wholesome) on the internet.
> 
> Chapter CW: BDSM play, Dom/sub dynamics, shibari, spanking. Some mild anxiety and flashbacks that are quickly calmed/quieted by a very good Dominant. (◡‿◡)

"Look at you," the voice murmurs in her ear, "Absolutely beautiful..."

Lilian does not need to breathe but feels her chest flutter anyway. The lurching fear from painful memories twists and knots in her stomach and she begins to squirm in her restraints.

A hand on her cheek gentles her. Reggie's warmth always makes her shiver, even if she is more hale than the usual Childe of the night. Another comes to rest on the top of her stomach, where the ribs end and her abdomen begins. His palms are smooth, but firm. Artist's hands, she thinks to herself. Her mind is beginning to run wild.

"We can stop at any time," the voice whispers, and his breath is warm too. It tickles her ear and she whimpers. Leans into the touch. He's _warm_ and he's _light_ and everything she never can be anymore, not really.

"I'm okay," she insists. Lilian's voice is thick with an unspoken and unreleased cry of _‘please’_.

His touch is intoxicating and varied as his hand occasionally breaks contact with her skin to glide over the rope that criss-crosses just above her cool, pale skin. She had only been shown her decorated form once before being blindfolded at her own behest. 

He picked the color _blue_ for the rope.

"Okay," he replies as he brushes his lips to his forehead. "You know your safeword?"

"Yes," Lilian says. Her tongue feels heavy as she feels warm, gentle _blue_ run up the insides of her thighs. The thought of sunlight drifts through her mind and she smiles faintly.

"What is it?"

"Masquerade."

"Good girl."

The words would have made her prickle were they from anyone else. Lilian settles in. This is different than it was with Perseus. Hedonism and bondage for the sake of their passions - their nature - felt more like a chore at times. It was second nature. Restraint was his language, he could tie harnesses and suspensions without so much a cursory glance to the books that lined a shelf in his "dungeon."

Reggie was different.

Reggie had worked on her the way he worked on all his art. A bit of hair falling out of place, making the occasional amusing expression... but focused. Intent. No choice without thought, without purpose. He’d made the offer as she was recovering from her panic attack, and Lilian… had agreed. _Someone_ had to hold her fractured pieces in place while she waited for them to set. Rope had been their only plan until a few well-timed and gently playful swats had Lilian on her knees and pressing her cheek into the rough fabric of Reggie’s jeans, resting her head on his thigh.

He found his stride easily with a hand in her hair and only soft praises as she did what he told her to do.

"Lilian? Hey. Can you still hear me? You're not slipping, right?"

“No,” she whispers.

His mouth finds her neck and even though she squirms, Lilian can find no purchase or relief from her bonds. That is good, this is good. _Reggie_ is good. He nips and she smiles almost _loopily_ because that’s _her_ job and she finds their role reversal incredibly hilarious for some reason.

Oh. So it’s _now_ she breaks - and starts laughing wholeheartedly.

She expects to be scolded for laughing but she hears the smile in Reggie’s voice when he speaks. His hand comes up to caress her cheek again. She feels dizzy and happy, leans her body forward so she tips into his shoulder and her face presses safely into his neck. He’s home. Security. Her scenes with Perseus were always serious affairs, the most she’d get was a sniff of bemusement if she was struggling to complete a task as deceptively simple as getting a glass of water from one side of the room to the other.

(It’s a lot more difficult when one's hands are tied behind their back and their legs are bound from the hip downward.)

“What’s so funny?”

Lilian is about to reply before she’s hauled up and over. Denim presses into her skin and she squeaks when she realizes that Reggie has her _bent over his knee._ She could certainly call her _own_ smile one of pride - he’s been learning since they’ve brought more people into their play circle. He enjoys submitting to her, but they’ve found they work well together when they dominate as a duo. She teaches him the literal and proverbial ropes and gets to enjoy watching him piece someone apart the way she does to him regularly.

She tries to squirm away and his hand comes in contact with her backside. It earns a yelp from her and a gentle chuckle from him.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

  
  
“You didn’t give me the time to.”

  
  
Lilian _knows_ it’ll earn a hand in her hair. He’s so easy to bait, he plays along with her games. The tug is sharp and her spine arcs backwards. She feels the rough brush of fabric and warm pressure against the backs of her thighs and she realizes he has just _trapped her_ over his _knee_ with his leg - the move that _she has used on him._ It’s enough to make her gasp with indignant pride, but the smug aura he practically _oozes_ is too much not to comment on.

“I can hear your shit-eating grin.”

“Language, Lilian. It’s not befitting for someone like you to spew curses. Do it again and you’ll be punished.”

Her butt wiggles in slight excitement as she opens her mouth to speak. “I don’t spew curses. I enunciate them. Like a _fucking_ lady.”

Silence. For a moment, stomach-clenching fear takes hold of her. She feels sick, this was a bad idea, Perseus _hated_ when she was mouthy-

“Ring gag it is, then.”

“The ring gag?”

More of that smug aura. She can feel Reggie reach for the small table he’s set up near the bed, where she’d laid out all the toys of her choice before they began playing.

“I do seem to recall enjoying the sight of your fangs. They grow when you’re enjoying yourself and not paying attention to it. It’s kind of adorable, actually.”

His hand is still quite securely in her hair and Lilian shudders when the gag seats itself in her mouth. It lends itself to messy play, but she’s never minded that and Reggie doesn’t seem to either.

His hand finds the back of her thighs again and again.

Her skin welts and turns red with each strike. This is a red she doesn’t mind, not when it’s Reggie, not when he’s blue. They mix into a soft purple, in her mind, maybe the color of lilac or lavender. 

Lilian lets herself fall into the darkness, because she knows it is not an empty one. 

When she thrashes against her restraints, it is not for fear of not having control, but a desperate need to let go of it.

When she wails, it is not in anguish, but ecstasy.

When she cries, it is not terror, but bliss that overtakes her.

When she finally, _finally_ returns to the light, it isn’t to cold and hard arms, but Reggie’s very warm embrace and a blanket as soft as his words. His hug is tight as he cradles her again, keeps a gentle pressure on her limbs to remind her that he _is_ here and he isn’t going to be leaving her anytime soon.

Lilian closes her eyes, presses her face into her lover’s neck, and lets herself rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was such a fun fic to write! Please let me know if you're interested in reading more about Lilian and Reggie, I adore them so much and would love to share more if people had prompt ideas!
> 
> Chapter title from _Colors_ by Halsey.


End file.
